Page 24 of The F*ck-It List

“Did you ask Uncle August about your library dreams?” Connor asks as he pipes whipped cream on the top layer of cake.

“Oh, um…” I turn my back to him and start fiddling with the stack of espresso cups. “You know, I’m not sure it’s the kind of project he wants to take on.”

I sense rather than see Connor stopping his piping and standing straight. “What? That makes no sense, he loves building custom woodwork. It’s literally his whole thing.”

“Well, I-I don’t think he wants to do this one. It’s fine, I can look for someone else.” I start wiping at the spotless surface in front of me.

“Hey,” he says a little too gently for my fragile heart to take. “You know, he can kind of come across as an arsehole, but he’s a good guy. And he’ll do anything for the people in the village, that includes you now. So if you’re nervous about asking him, you should know he’ll definitely say yes.”

I can only nod and smile at him over my shoulder, feeling sorry for the kid as he looks immensely proud of himself for saying nice things about his uncle.

In the evening, when I’ve eaten my bodyweight in cheese from the adorable cheese shop in the village and realise I don’t have any wine to wash it down with, I figure I might go to the pub to get out of the cottage for a bit. I can sit at the bar and have a glass or two, maybe chat to the locals. At the very least, Eli will be working behind the bar, and I can talk to him. He’s been so kind every time I’ve seen him over the last week. He likes to jog shirtless in the mornings and I can’t say I have any complaint about him stopping for a chat on his way past.

Thinking I should probably change from the clothes I’ve been wearing all day, I pull out my faithful jeans. The pair that look greatwith a simple t-shirt or dressed up with a sequin top and heels. My favourite jeans. My favourite jeans that won’t button up. What. The. Hell?

“Come on,” I groan, laying on my bed and sucking my stomach in. It’s not been that long since I wore these, and it’s only been a week of baking and eating everything I baked and the sausages from the butchers and the cheese from the cheese shop. I cannot possibly have grown out of these jeans in that time.

Have these thing shrunk? This is ridiculous. The button finally goes into place, and the zip decides it’s going to be a little bitch next. I use a hanger to help, looping the hook into the zip and pulling hard, mentally reassuring myself once they’re done up, they’ll magically fit perfectly again. When the hanger snaps and my arms fly up to smack my own face, I flop back on the bed and swear at my ceiling for approximately one minute before dusting myself off and starting again.

eight

No. 9: Let loose and get a little drunk

August

“Two nights in a row? You been missing me?” Eli teases as I take my seat at the bar, Darcy immediately curling up on the flagstone flooring at my feet.

“Seems like I’m doing you a favour,” I grumble, jerking my head to the nearly empty pub, just a couple of tables occupied.

As usual, Eli isn’t bothered by the dig or my surly attitude, smiling wide as he starts pouring my favourite cider from the tap without me having to ask. “What’s up?”

“Nothing’s up.”

“Uh huh, sure.” He puts my pint down. “You were basically scowling into your glass all night last night and today you’re all jittery.”

“I am not jittery,” I argue, forcing my leg to stop bouncing.

I may be a little out of my comfort zone. I know I fucked up with Bea yesterday. She caught me at a bad time, and I said some shit I shouldn’t have, shit I didn’t even mean, and I know I need to apologise. It’s just, I’m not good at that and Eli is usually the one who tells me how to say what I want to say, but he’s going to be really pissed when he hears what I said to her.

“Is this still about the letter?” he asks gently, leaning on the bar opposite me and I deeply regret telling him about it. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do?”

“No,” I grit out, not wanting to talk about the fucking letter. “It’s uh…it’s Bea.”

Eli’s grin spreads in a way I find totally annoying. “Oooooh,” he coos. “I was wondering when you’d notice.”

“Notice?”

“That she’s gorgeous, and nice, and apparently very single,” he sing-songs.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s not what I’m—”

“You know, I think Bea would be very good for you.”

“Eli—”

“You need to do something with your life, man,” he continues, ignoring me. “You had a bad experience, we get it, we all feel for you. But come on, August, you need to move on from—”

“Eli!” I bark, cutting him off before he brings up shit that doesn’t need to be brought up right now. The other people in the pub look up from their hushed conversations and Eli rolls his eyes, giving a sigh that has no right being so dramatic.